


Boredom

by GoldenRaven



Series: Rocket!Silver [3]
Category: Pocket Monsters SPECIAL | Pokemon Adventures
Genre: Gen, Rocket!Silver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 10:32:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15532323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenRaven/pseuds/GoldenRaven
Summary: Working for a crime syndicate shouldn't be this boring. Or classy. But here he is.





	Boredom

If someone had asked Silver to write up a list of what he’d expected after joining Team Rocket, constantly being bored wouldn’t have made even the top twenty.

Partly because he’d always thought of himself as fairly hard to bore, he was used to long periods of inactivity; he didn’t necessarily enjoy them, but he at least knew how to occupy himself when left to his own devices.

But also because, much higher on that list, would have been fights, and plots, and everyone having their own agendas, and while that was all true, very little seemed to affect him.

Which probably shouldn’t have come as a shock, his introduction had amounted simply to, ‘Giovanni’s son’ and ‘fought the executives and won’ (which was only partly true, but he’d decided to let the rumors spread, in turn making it seem the four were trying to spare their reputations when they said otherwise, rather than telling the truth), and now no one was willing to pick a fight.

Another thing that would have placed rather high on that hypothetical list, was field work. Missions, scouting, spying, at this point he’d have welcomed a fight with the dexholders, if only for something to do (that was one thing he’d noticed, they all seemed to have disappeared once he’d left, or perhaps they’d all always put this much effort into staying off Team Rocket’s radar and he simply hadn’t noticed until now).

But instead he’d been relegated to shadowing his father around base, learning things he supposed in another life he’d have already known for years, with the only breaks in routine being inspections of fronts, the odd business meeting, and, apparently, (what he was currently suffering through) charity galas.

Giovanni had said they were there to maintain his public identity of a ‘simple’ business man and philanthropist. Silver was fairly certain the real reason was that he’d been bored and felt like threatening someone of actual importance, but he’d kept that to himself.

But that was how he’d wound up here, in some overpriced hotel’s ballroom in Lumiose City. A short lesson on the flight there had gotten his french to passable enough to introduce himself, which he had been quick to realize was also enough to give him an out for most conversations; no one was going to complain to Giovanni that his son was being antisocial, and, for once, Silver was glad for his father’s reputation.

With his only instructions being to stay where Giovanni could see him (he had no intention of wandering off), and to not get drunk (he’d had alcohol exactly once and didn’t wish to repeat the experience) he was otherwise free to do as he wanted. Which meant hiding on the edge of the crowd, choosing targets at random, assessing them as a threat and then dismissing them as harmless. He wasn’t expecting to be attacked, but he had no other way of passing time.

Well, technically Giovanni hadn’t told him not to pick a fight (plenty of rich kids with overblown but delicate egos to choose from), or a pocket (again, plenty of targets), but he felt that may have been assumed to be a rule that didn’t need to be voiced.

The thought is still amusing though, making him snort at the mental image of the gaudy room trashed from a battle, or even just the table of food that he’s knows is destined to be thrown out anyway broken from a fist fight.

It occurs to him that it’s been a bit since he’s seen Giovanni and he scans the crowd, it’s strange to not be able to spot him immediately, no constant six foot radius being given here like at base, and his suit blends him in even more.

Finally he spots him by a window, talking with a thin woman in black with a knot of pink hair at the top of her head (he thinks he knows her from TV, probably a news station (Green would know)). They’re both all small, controlled, smiles, and nods; Silver can sense the meeting getting scheduled.

He tenses, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up, and turns around casually, scanning the crowd again, someone was watching him. His eyes meet those of a tall man with what can only be described as a mane of orange hair, lounging on a couch near the back of the room. Silver holds his gaze for a moment, long enough to decide he’s a possible problem, before turning away as the man’s eyes narrow. There’s something off about him, Silver doesn’t know what but he doesn’t like it.

He finds Giovanni again, still by the window, but alone now, and wanders over, dodging through the crowd, wishing he had his father’s ability to part a crowd seemingly just by existing.

When he reaches Giovanni, he settles at his side, leaning against the windowsill, trying to copy his posture. It ends in Giovanni looking relaxed and Silver looking even more uncomfortable than he already was, but he’s long since given up on trying to blend in with anything beyond his wardrobe anyway. It’s not worth it.

“Enjoying yourself?” Giovanni asks, as Silver’s eyes dart around the room, looking for the man from earlier.

 “Not really.” He’s well aware that he’s whining, but Giovanni had asked. “It’s boring, and I stick out too much.”

Giovanni turns his head, studying Silver, with his slicked back ponytail, and suit that he’s still not used to, for a moment before replying, “You really don’t. And these things are always boring, you’ll get used to it.”

Silver crosses his arms, angling them so the knife tucked up his sleeve presses against his other arm, the pressure is comforting. Much more so than his father’s very false reassurances. How can he not stand out? But that’s something to bring up later, if he’s truly doomed to more of these things then he supposes he’ll put an effort into learning the  etiquette, languages, whatever. It’s all just another skill set (at least his failures don’t land him in a glorified freezer as punishment now).

Silver’s gaze lands on the man from earlier again, this time unnoticed. He’s still on the couch, surrounded by several other guests. One thing Silver has learned about these awful social events is that the less a person is moving around the more important they tend to be; attracting conversation by sheer presence, rather than seeking it out.

“Who is that?” he says finally, nodding towards him.

The small smirk that crosses Giovanni’s face is enough to tell Silver that he’d made the right decision to walk away earlier. “Lysandre, owner of Lysandre Labs, along with a handful of other, smaller, businesses. Most of them are legitimate.”

“Are they all named after him?” Silver muses, before registering the rest of his father’s answer. “What do you mean ‘most are legitimate’?”

Silver’s gotten better at reading Giovanni’s extremely subtle reactions, and he’s pretty sure it’s amusement currently glinting in his eyes. “I believe a few are, yes. One exception being Team Flare, does that name sound familiar?”

It does, but it takes Silver a minute to figure out where from. “You- We sold them mega stones? Or something similar?”

“Yes.” Giovanni steps away from the window as he adds, “If you’re dying of boredom, we can leave.”

“Really?”

He shrugs, “I’ve done everything I needed to do. Unless you felt like socializing, we can grab dinner and head back to the hotel.”

He doesn’t, and he hasn’t eaten since they arrived. Nodding, he steps away from the window, and manages to not tense up when Giovanni sets a hand on his back, leading him towards the exit.


End file.
